Congratulations, XandraG! These were all so hilarious—totally made me snort (not very attractively, I might add).
Spamword: built75. If only all guys were at that age . . .
In a recent comment, the lovely Shannon Stacey expressed shock that Sarah is having me read SEP’s Honey Moon as part of our April Bad Book Challenge. (Her task is to read Desire’s Blossom, and may I say that I think she has the short end of the stick? Like, the SEVERELY short end; so short, it’s more a nubbin than anything actually stick-like.)
And that got me thinking: you know, there are quite a few really, really popular authors other people love that I don’t get. Some of them actually produce books I detest. So here I go again, busting out my bulleted lists:
But you know what I truly think are the most grossly overrated author and love story of all time? Emily Bronte and Wuthering Heights.
Am I actually allowed to be romance novel reader and say that out loud without being punished severely? Like having the soles of my feet whipped with birch rods for seven hours straight. Or being locked in a room with only Avril Lavigne to listen to and nothing but potted meat product and pickled pork rinds to eat for a whole week straight.
I think Shannon’s right. I’m going to burn in Hell. S’OK, I’ll request that my family burn me little paper effigies of SPF75 sunblock during the Hungry Ghost festival. Hey, if my other dead relatives get Hell passports, Hell electric razors, Hell TV sets, Hell furniture and Hell money, I can request that mom and dad get me some Hell sunscreen, right? I mean, if you think cracked, peeling skin is a bitch here on Earth….
Addendum:
More authors I don’t get: Julie Garwood (meh), Adele Ashworth (about 50-50 meh and EEEGAH!), Sandra Brown (99% EEEGAH!) and Elizabeth Lowell (meh).